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RUDOLF  EICKEMEYER. 
JOEL  CHANDLER  HARRIS 


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THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 

From  the  library  of 
Thomas  Jonathan  Burrlll 
Vice  President 
of  the  University 
Presented  by  Mrs.Burrill 
in  1917 


UNIVERSITY  OF 
ILLINOIS  LIBRARY 
AT  URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
BOOKSTACKS 


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HERTZBERG  —  NEW  METHOD,  INC.  EAST  VANDALIA  ROAD.  JACKSONVILLE,  ILL.  62650 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2018  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign  Alternates 


https://archive.org/details/downsouthOOeick 


DOWN  SOUTH 


IKE 

Of  iHE 

UMivfctvsuy  »F  nxmm 


THE  l(RRAR)f 
OF  fHE 


WHO  ’S  DAT? 


DOWN  SOUTH 


Pictures  by 


RUDOLF  EICKEMEYER,  Jr. 


With  a  Preface  by 
JOEL  CHANDLER  HARRIS 


New  York  R.  H.  RUSSELL,  Publisher  igoo 


A  CYPRESS  SWAMP. 


Copyright,  1900 


Robert  Howard  Russell 


)Nc 


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HERE  is  a  feeling  in  the  minds  of  those  who  are 
familiar  with  the  course  and  development  of  our 
national  history,  from  the  colonial  period  down  to  the 
present  time,  that  the  most  inviting  as  well  as  the  most 
accessible  field  of  American  romance  is  to  be  found  in 
the  Southern  States  of  the  Union.  This  feeling  has 
a  most  substantial  basis  in  fact,  for  it  is  in  the  old  slave  States,  on  the 
cotton,  tobacco  and  rice  plantations,  that  the  most  startling  contrasts  and 
contradictions  whirled  and  swarmed,  dancing,  as  it  were,  a  perpetual 
morris-dance,  while  the  rest  of  the  world  looked  on  with  wonder  or 
interest,  with  admiration  or  indignation. 

Here  cavalier  and  covenanter  joined  hands  to  resist  the  aggressions  of 
monarchy;  here  was  a  rampant  and  raging  love  of  liberty  existing  side  by 
side  with  human  slavery;  here  were  to  be  found  culture,  refinement,  learn¬ 
ing,  the  highest  ideals  of  character  and  conduct,  the  most  exacting  standards 
of  honor  in  private  and  official  life,  and  the  most  sensitive  insistence  on 
justice  and  right,  all  touching  elbows  with  an  ignorance  dense  and  bar¬ 
barian.  Here  for  the  first  and  perhaps  for  the  last  time  in  the  history  of 
civilization  were  to  be  found  aristocracy  and  democracy  knocking  about 
the  country  (as  the  saying  is)  arm  in  arm,  hail-fellows-well-met.  Here, 
too,  was  the  hospitality,  hearty,  simple  and  unaffected,  living  next  door  to 
desperate  feud. 

It  is  contrasts  and  contradictions  such  as  these,  and  the  possibilities 
lurking  behind  them,  that  romancers  take  for  their  material;  and  it  is  in 
such  a  field  as  this  that  the  novelists  proper  find  the  atmosphere  and  color 
necessary  to  give  harmony  and  vitality  to  their  character  creations.  Here 


1 


^■6  53' 


is  not  only  the  background,  but  all  the  details  necessary  to  the  building  of 
romance  and  reporting  the  essence  of  human  life;  all  the  accessories,  all 
the  particulars  are  here. 

A  critic  was  saying  the  other  day  that  we  lack  in  this  republic  the 
atmosphere  necessary  to  the  production  of  really  great  fiction,  and  he  cited 
the  reader  to  the  old  world,  where  there  are  ruins  of  castles,  and  ivy- 
covered  wrecks  of  an  older  civilization.  But  it  is  clear  that  the  citation 
is  not  to  the  ruins  and  wrecks,  but  to  the  historic  associations  which  they 
recall.  What  we  have  lacked  hitherto  is  not  the  necessary  atmosphere, 
but  the  eyes  capable  of  perceiving  it  in  the  fulness  of  its  beauty.  Fortu¬ 
nately  there  are  very  recent  evidences  going  to  show  that  the  trained  eyes 
and  the  inspired  hands  have  arrived  upon  the  scene. 

Meanwhile,  an  artist  of  the  camera  has  been  looking  about  in  the  South 
for  the  picturesque  and  has  succeeded  in  finding  it  in  all  sorts  of  out-of-the- 
way  places.  He  has  found  it  even  in  what  is  homely  and  commonplace. 
The  result  is  the  series  of  photographic  representations  embodied  in  this 
volume.  Ordinarily  the  camera  is  but  a  reporter  of  facts,  altogether 
devoid  of  imagination,  but  the  pictures  herein  reproduced  show  the  camera 
IS  a  very  susceptible  instrument  in  the  hands  of  one  who  has  a  feeling  for 
the  artistic.  A  happy  selection,  not  only  of  character  and  scene,  but  of 
the  apt  moment,  has  enabled  him  to  present  here  a  series  of  most  remark¬ 
able  photographs.  The  most  striking  of  them  give  wide  wings  to  the 
imagination,  and  the  most  familiar,  such  as  the  lonely  path  through  the 
cotton-patch,  possess  a  charm  that  cannot  be  defined.  It  is  possible  to 
believe  that  the  man  behind  the  instrument  was  both  a  poet  and  an  artist. 

JOEL  CHANDLER  HARRIS. 


RETURNING  FROM  THE  FIELDS. 


THE  LONELY  PATH 


THE  PEANUT  FIELD. 


AUNT  MAHALIE’S  PETS 


THE  PLANTATION  WELL 


POUNDING  RICE. 


THE  THANKSGIVING  TURKEY 


THE  LANE  TO  THE  GREAT  HOUSE 


THE  GREAT  HOUSE 


AUNT  CHLOE. 


UNCLE  ESSICK 


CABE 


AUNT  CHLOE  PREPARING  DINNER. 


THE  CANE  FIELD. 


STRIPPING  THE  CANE. 


THE  SWEET  POTATO  PATCH. 


A  STILL  OCTOBER  DAY 


"WHEN  THE  CAT’S  AWAY.” 


VANITY, 


THE  COTTON  FIELD  AT  SUNDOWN. 


PICKING  TIME. 


“CRAPS”  IN  THE  FIELD, 


UNLOADING  THE  COTTON 


THE  CIN. 


A  CABIN 


OLD  UNCLE  NED. 


SOLID  COMFORT, 


THE  DAY’S  WORK  DONE 


AUNTIE  MAHALIE’S  HALF  ACRE. 


THE  POOL. 


ASKING  THE  WAY 


GOSSIP, 


CURIOSITY 


THE  NEW  SOUTH 


THE  OLD  WELL. 


WASH  DAY  ON  THE  PLANTATION 


MINDING 


BUDDER 


THE  WIDOW’S  PATCH 


THE  DYING  EMBERS. 


THOUGHTS  OF  OTHER  DAYS 


THE  imm 

OF  fHE 

UNIVERSlTV  Of  ILU^IQJS 


